


Hockey Shots

by Suzelle



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Bruce and Steve's Sobriety Corner, Drinking Games, Gen, Hockey, Stanley Cup Finals, Team Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-10
Updated: 2012-06-10
Packaged: 2017-11-07 11:34:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/430657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suzelle/pseuds/Suzelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After discovering that Clint was a rabid hockey fan, Tony declared the penthouse Stanley Cup territory, and invited them all up to watch Game Five in hopes that the L.A. Kings would finally beat out the New Jersey Devils to clinch the series. Drinking games ensue. Bruce and Steve bond over their inability to fully join in on the fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hockey Shots

Bruce had missed the last party the Avengers threw at Stark Tower, an impromptu celebration of Jane Foster finding a way to get Thor back to Earth. The Other Guy had made a particularly nasty appearance the day before, and Bruce had still been sleeping off the aches and disorientation when Foster and Thor invaded the Tower. To their credit, the ruckus below hadn’t been enough to wake him, but Bruce could sleep like the dead if need be. Pepper told him the next morning that the festivities had culminated in Natasha leaving early, Foster and Tony getting into a drunken screaming match about scientific ethics (he was particularly relieved to have missed out on _that_ ), and Thor smashing Mjolnir through the ceilings of twelve floors.

With all this in mind, Bruce wondered at the wisdom of throwing another party so soon after the damage from the last one had been repaired, but if Pepper of all people didn’t object to it, there wasn’t really much else to say. Team bonding seemed to be a really important thing to her. Or maybe it was just seeing Tony happy—even if Tony’s happiness meant shelling out another couple hundred thousand dollars for a cleaning crew.

Either way, after discovering that Clint was a rabid hockey fan, Tony had declared the penthouse Stanley Cup territory, and invited them all up to watch Game Five in hopes that the L.A. Kings would finally beat out the New Jersey Devils to clinch the series. Clint’s beloved Blackhawks had been knocked out in the first round, but that didn’t stop the two of them from trying to make the occasion as festive as possible. Tony hated anything that spawned from New Jersey, so the penthouse was covered with Kings flags. Clint was still wearing his Blackhawks jersey with Patrick Kane’s number on the back, and couldn’t quite keep the wistful look off his face as he watched the other two teams get ready for the face-off.

“Okay, here are the rules,” Tony said, a manic gleam in his eye. “One shot for every goal scored, one shot for every fight, a shot if there’s overtime, and one shot every time a coach smiles.”

“Amateurs,” Clint scoffed, “Add in a shot for every power play, too.”

“What’s a power play?” Natasha asked, leaning casually back against the bar, already sipping at a vodka martini.

Clint gave her a withering look. “Don’t you _ever_ pay attention to the games you watch with me?”

She raised a pointedly disinterested eyebrow in reply.

Clint sighed. “A power play is what happens when a guy is sent to the penalty box. It’s five-on-four for a little while, so the other team’s got the advantage.”

“Explain to me the rules of this game again,” Thor said as he stared intently at the 80-inch TV, looking like he didn’t quite know what to do with his hands (Jane had persuaded him to leave Mjolnir in his room this time). “They have to use…special footwear to navigate on the ice? And what is the purpose of the large sticks? Are they to hit each other with them?”

Bruce expected Clint to turn on him in equal exasperation, but it was Pepper who cut in.

“They are definitely not allowed to hit each other with the sticks, Thor,” she said, “The sticks are for hitting that little black disc. It’s called a puck. They try to hit the puck into the other team’s goal posts over there. But they can’t get to the attacking zone before the puck is in the zone, because that’s offsides, and…”

She broke off as she realized that the everyone but Tony was staring at her in surprise. “What?” Pepper shrugged, “My brothers all played hockey when I was a kid. It’s fun to watch.”

Bruce shook his head. There was getting to be very little about this group that surprised him these days.

****

OH, COME ON!” Tony threw his hands up and screamed at the television, while Clint let out a string of curses in four different languages. “Pull it together guys, it’s just the one game you’ve got to win, THE ONE GAME!”

Bruce allowed himself a small smile. He never would have pegged Stark as one to get into sports, but it appeared Clint’s enthusiasm was contagious—and Tony really did hate New Jersey. He caught Pepper’s wink before slipping towards the back corner of the penthouse where Steve sat, staring at his untouched martinelli with only the slightest tint of regret.

 “Not joining in the game, Dr. Banner?” Steve asked. He jerked his head towards the center of the room, where Tony, Clint, Natasha, Thor, Pepper, Darcy, and Jane were all clinking shot glasses, Tony and Clint with particularly disgusted grimaces on their faces.

“It’s a lot harder to keep control over yourself when you’ve downed three shots of tequila in forty-five minutes,” Bruce replied sardonically, “And I’ve never seen the Other Guy drunk, but…I don’t think we want to start with that now. I think there would be a lot more smash than usual.”

 “Welcome to the land of the non-inebriated,” Steve said, raising his glass. Bruce raised his own bottle of Sierra Nevada before taking a long, slow sip.

 “You still drink beer, though?” Steve asked.

Bruce nodded. “One beer every couple of hours doesn’t do much of anything. And I still like it well enough.”

Steve made a face. “Before I was Captain America, I’d have beer with the guys every so often, and it…wasn’t for the taste.”

“You were probably drinking the wrong kind,” Bruce offered, “There’s a lot more out there than the cheap crap people usually put out." He hadn't been a beer snob before the Other Guy, but now...there wasn't really any other way to enjoy it, but for the taste. "I mentioned to Tony at one point what I liked, and they’ve got a pretty good variety of craft beers now. You should try a couple sometime.”

“Thanks,” Steve said, “Maybe I will.” He paused. “You know, Stark always claims I’ve got a stick shoved up my spangly outfit—his words, not mine,” Steve amended hastily when Bruce snorted into his beer, “But you know, he’s got a lot more methods of release than you and I.”

 “Yeah, well Tony’s got his own demons to deal with,” Bruce said quietly, glancing over at Tony, who was currently channeling most of his rage at Alec Martinez and the rest of the Kings.

 “Do you ever miss it, Dr. Banner?” Steve said, “Even though you know that what you’ve got now can help people …do you ever miss what you can’t have now?”

 It was hard to remember, sometimes, that Steve was technically younger than all of them. He had the leadership, and the fighting, and probably more wisdom about certain things then the rest of them put together. But— not much older than a kid, really. If Bruce were still teaching, he’d have TAs older than him.

 “Yes…and no,” Bruce said slowly. He wasn’t even sure if he knew the answer himself. “Do I miss getting drunk at parties like this? Sure. But do I miss waking up with my head in a toilet? Not so much. And, I dunno…it’s like…learning to enjoy beer for the taste of it. Once you can’t enjoy things the normal way anymore you’ve…got to recalibrate. Otherwise you’ll go nuts.” Bruce fell into silence, ruminating on the other things—far more important things—that the Other Guy had taken from him. Things he couldn’t really make up for.

He gave himself a little shake. He had worked past feeling sorry for himself a long time ago, and his life right now was far better than it had been even a year ago. And really, as long as Tony and Pepper accepted him here, as long as SHIELD kept the Army from going after him, as long as the Other Guy never made too much of a mess—too many “as long as” scenarios, but what could you do—it wasn’t a bad life to have.

 “My friends!” Thor bounded over between them and threw an arm around each of their shoulders, causing Bruce to wince just a little. “Why are you not joining us in our glorious celebrations?”

Bruce and Steve exchanged a look. He would have thought that a lightning god would have a bit more tolerance to him, but Thor seemed to be just as far gone as the rest of them. Or maybe he just liked the excuse to be more rowdy than was usually considered polite.

“We’re celebrating just as much as you, Thor,” Bruce said with a twisted smile, “We’re just…celebrating at a distance.”

A chorus of shouts and groans had suddenly erupted near the television, where a fight had broken out near the Kings’ goal. “Fight! Get your ass back here, Thor!” Clint called out. Thor grinned at Bruce and Steve before rushing back towards the bar. Halfway there he stopped and stared at the television, frowning as he saw the referees pulling the players apart.

“But I do not understand!” Thor bellowed in disbelief, “Why are the striped men stopping their fight? They should be able to continue it to the finish!”

“Fighting’s against the rules, Thor,” Pepper explained, “The refs have to stop them!”

“Well that is just plain foolish,” said Thor in anger, “It is in their nature, one’s honor has probably been insulted! And they have weapons, they must fight!”

“They’re not trained for it, Gladiator Boy,” Tony said, patting him on the shoulder, “Now shut up and take another shot.”

*****

Clint was tearing up one of the Kings flags in dazed disappointment, before Natasha took it from him with a sigh and steering him back towards the bar.

“Consolation shot?” Tony asked around. Pepper shook her head, stumbling dizzily to the couch and collapsing in a heap, giggling hysterically at Clint. Jane had been out soon after the second-period power play, but Darcy and Natasha was still going strong, each pouring out other’s shot glasses.

“Okay, who’s up for strip poker?” Tony asked, “We’ve got to do something to get our minds off that disaster.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “How old are you Stark, sixteen?”

“I’ve got it!” Clint shouted, “Strip darts!” He grinned at Natasha, “that way you and I are safe no matter what.”

“Is that a challenge?” Thor and Tony shouted together.

From the corner, Bruce and Steve watched, each wearing their own expression of bemused fascination that this was now their life and the company they kept.

“Hey, Steve,” Bruce said slowly, pulling out his phone, “has anyone told you yet about all the great things they put on telephones these days?”

“Sort of?” Steve said, “I’m still only getting used the idea that you can carry phones around in your pocket all the time. But they all do seem to have a lot of bells and whistles on them.”

“Did anyone ever tell you they have video cameras on them now?”

“They do? Really??” Steve exclaimed. “But what does that have to do with…”

Bruce caught his eye and looked pointedly over to the dart board, where Tony had just taken off his shirt while Darcy and Natasha were slow-dancing to “Total Eclipse of the Heart.” 

“You are a bad man, Dr. Banner,” Steve said, unable to keep a slow grin from spreading across his face. “A very, very bad man.”

Bruce responded with a wicked grin of his own. “They have their fun, we have ours.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was a bit of fun written in honor of the venerable Marycontraire, in an attempt to have our two fandoms crossover a little bit :D.
> 
> With thanks to Cairistiona for the beta


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